December is a bit of a heavy month, what with the Holiday tucked in between some tragic anniversaries. So before any of you start to get down, let's change gear and go for some Holiday tunes. The cheerful folks at Jezebel tracked down their Worst Christmas Songs of All Time and entered them into a nifty NCAA style playoff (except without the bribes, as far as I can tell) and proclaimed the worst ever Christmas song to be "The Christmas Shoes," a ghastly guilt ridden tale of a little boy rushing to bring his hospital bound Mother a new pair of shoes so she can die. That's pretty happy, eh?
Here's the link but hide the sharp objects before clicking:
Okay that WAS pretty ghastly, but is it truly the worst? That sounds a bit like a dare, doesn't it? Off to the research laboratory. The Gizmodo folks even offer an strong alternative, a dreadful Bill Danoff tune called "Please, Daddy Don't Get Drunk This Christmas." This time, Mother is spared the relief that death can bring and has to be fully conscious while her children plead with their father not to wreck yet ANOTHER Christmas with his drinking. Cheerfully presented in a live performance folk format resembling the Peter Paul and Mary of Dysfunctional families. Ah, I feel warm.
Now who would have guessed that there would be TWO different songs called "Daddy's Drinking Up Our Christmas?" Well, maybe me, but I mean of you normal, well adjusted folks? The Commander Cody version is the more lighthearted of the two. In this one, Daddy quits his job, goes on a bender, wrecks the car and drinks every dime they have, to a zydeco rhythm. Ho Ho Ho!
And now the darker side, Same Title and different tune. This one, by none other than Smiley Bates himself, maintains the starving child and the overall theme but adds a shameless harlot across the street in the bar with Daddy, luring him astray while the family huddles in shame/ guilt/ tears/ vomit. You get the idea. Makes getting run over by a reindeer seem rather palatable.
As wonderful as they are, the drunken whore mongering Daddy songs are actually self-cancelling. We need something to cut through the clutter. If only, say, someone had taken the old Augie Rios novelty song "Mamacita, Donde Esta Santa Claus" from 1958 and remade it, maybe in a 1978 Disco Extended version with a wall of strings- that would have legs. Now who to do the vocals- what about, maybe, Charo?
Now we're getting somewhere. ladies and Gentlemen, my Aluminum Christmas Tree Champion Discoball winner- the 1978 Disco Remake of "Mamcita, Donde Esta Santa Claus" by none other than Charo.
Don't thank me all at once.